


Naked First

by silveronthetree



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/M, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-05
Updated: 2010-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-17 14:17:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveronthetree/pseuds/silveronthetree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times McCoy and Chapel saw each other naked before they started a relationship, and one time after they were together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Naked First

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/fringedweller/profile)[**fringedweller**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/fringedweller/) in the [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/mccoy_chapel/profile)[**mccoy_chapel**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/mccoy_chapel/) Exchange '09, and crossposted there. Many thanks to [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/thistlerose/profile)[](http://www.livejournal.com/users/thistlerose/)**thistlerose** for the speedy last minute beta.

**One**

_Christine Chapel was perched on a bench at one side of the decontamination chamber, trying not to catch the eye of the man on the other side. This was awkward. Horribly, embarrassingly awkward. Christine prided herself on remaining professional at all times but it certainly wasn’t working now. Why did she have to end up naked and alone in a room with her boss? Admittedly she saw naked people everyday at work, but when it came to her own body, it was a different story. She hated being so exposed._

* * *

It had started off as a standard planetary mission, her first since she had arrived on the Enterprise. They had been visiting a planet with a bad epidemic of a mystery disease and several of the medical staff, including Christine and Dr McCoy had been sent to find a cure and treat the affected population. For five days, the team had been working non-stop until they finally synthesised a vaccine. Now it was time to return to the Enterprise. The rest of the medics had just been beamed up leaving Christine and McCoy as the last ones left on the planet surface. Christine was exhausted and was looking forward to a long rest in her own bed. Not long now.

McCoy’s communicator beeped and he turned to Christine, "Chapel, you've got everything?"

She nodded, securing her bag on her shoulder. But instead of the expected instructions to prepare to beam up, she heard the captain’s voice. “We've had a few problems since you've been down there. We’re sending a shuttle. Standby for further instructions.”

"Great, four more hours to waste," McCoy scowled at his communicator as if it was responsible for the delay.

Christine decided to take this development positively. At least she would get a chance for some sleep before their debriefing.

* * *

The shuttle ride was one of the worst Christine had ever experienced and she was unable to spend most of it dozing as planned. The pilot looked uncomfortable in his hazard proof suit, and it seemed to have an adverse effect on his flying. But all Christine could think about was how very happy she was to be out of there. Dr McCoy was looking even more irritated than usual and Christine remembered his aviaphobia seminar. She’d heard that he was mostly over the problem, but it looked as if a flight this bumpy had brought it back. However, she didn’t say anything and McCoy spent most of the flight with his eyes closed, gripping the sides of his seat tightly.

When they arrived back on the Enterprise, they stepped out of the shuttle to be greeted by several members of security and Dr M'Benga, in hazard proof suits.

The moment they stepped out, M'Benga waved a tricorder over them from a short distance away. "Class three contamination. You need to visit the decontamination chamber."

"What?" McCoy barked. He was still looking ill from the shuttle journey. "Don't be ridiculous, man. We have a perfectly adequate set of biofilters."

"Not at the moment we don't," M'Benga said. "The transporter is-. What’s the technical term? Completely screwed. We can’t even use the biofilters.”

McCoy looked as if he was about to protest, but thought better of it. Christine imagined that his desperation to return to his quarters for a drink was trumped by his desire to keep the Enterprise as disease free as possible. She was trying to remember exactly what a decontamination chamber involved. She knew they'd been mentioned in her History of Space Medicine class.

The pilot emerged from the shuttle. Christine watched as M'Benga gave him the once over with the tricorder. "You're clear."

The pilot nodded and edged away from them.

M'Benga turned to Security. "Escort Dr McCoy and Nurse Chapel to the decontamination chamber prepared on Deck 4. Don't let them come into contact with anything."

As they left the shuttle bay, Christine glanced behind her to see a team of suited workers enter the shuttle. They were carrying what looked like cleaning equipment.

* * *

She'd never seen the corridors so empty, as they made their way to Deck 4. Just her, McCoy and their besuited escorts. Dr McCoy had been full of questions for M’Benga as they reached the makeshift decontam chamber. It showed signs of being hastily put up, with packaging littering the floor. She tuned back into the conversation around her.

Dr McCoy was checking the exact intensity of UV and the components of the cleaning gels. Ensuring they were in line with the information he had about the disease. Usually Christine would be joining in that conversation but she was too exhausted.

“I'd have used a longer wavelength but it'll have to do. There was some research in the 2180s that suggested that it was 7% more effective on pathogens of this type." Dr McCoy stopped at the entrance of the chamber and Dr M’Benga left the room after handing two tubes to McCoy.

He looked at Christine, "Ready, Chapel?" he said, and started to strip off his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor.

She stared at him in surprise. He pulled off his shorts and stood in front of her completely naked. “Well what are you waiting for?” McCoy said. “The less clothing the better for this. It interferes with the chemicals.”

Christine reluctantly removed her uniform; it was her armour and she wasn’t happy taking it off. She’d always been self-concious, but since Roger... Christine didn’t finish that thought, it was the last thing she needed to think about now. She kept her underwear on and turned to look at McCoy. He was already in the room, looking at the settings on the control panel. She pulled off the rest of her clothes, and keeping her arm wrapped around her chest, walked into the small chamber.

McCoy handed her a tube of gel. "Rub this all over yourself." He frowned, "Try not to miss anything."

She covered herself methodically with the contents of the tube. It was cool against her skin and felt slimy. First her face and neck, then her chest, arms and hips. As she smoothed gel over her legs, she remembered she hadn’t depilated her legs recently. She hoped McCoy hadn’t noticed and then wished that it didn’t make her feel so self conscious. It was natural, and no one had had a chance for anything as unnecessary as grooming during the last few days. McCoy himself had the beginnings of quite a beard.

Christine decided to leave her back to the last. She glanced at McCoy but he was facing the opposite direction and was occupied in rubbing the gel between his toes. Great, he wouldn’t see how awkward she looked reaching her back. She bent her left arm behind her with her elbow close to her ear and contorted herself, just managing to apply the gel to the centre of her back. She grunted slightly with the effort. She was concentrating hard to ensure that she covered every inch, so she jumped when she felt the gel tube removed from her other hand.

“Damn it, Chapel! You could’ve just asked.” And she felt firm hands smoothing the gel over her shoulders.

She tensed, but before she had time to protest the hands were gone. She looked behind her to see McCoy applying more gel to his hands.

“Turn around, Chapel. I’m not quite finished,” he ordered and she obeyed.

His touch was certain and thorough, and Christine shivered. She hadn’t had anyone’s hands on her for a long time. Not since her fiancé had left her.

McCoy must have noticed the reaction because his next words were gentler than anything he’d said all day. “This stuff is very efficient. If we get full coverage it will remove 98.3% of possible pathogens. And they should get the transporter back online tomorrow and we can catch the last of it with the biofilters.” He seemed to be spending a lot of time on her left shoulder, his hand bumping her shoulder blade.

“Oh, right.” Christine didn’t know quite what to say in response to that. He’d completely misinterpreted her behaviour. And now his hands were sliding down her sides. On the stroke back up he brushed the underside of her breast and she tensed again. His hands were a little, rough against her skin, but it felt good.

“Sorry,” he said briefly and returned the tube to her. “Try and cover your scalp.”

Christine thanked him and started to work the gel through her hair. She was thinking about his hands; she had watched him perform dozens of surgeries but she hadn’t realised how big his hands were. It was surprising how delicate his touch could be. She wondered what else he would be good at with those hands.

"Could you cover my back?" Christine was jolted out of her thoughts by McCoy's voice. She took his tube and covered her hands in the gel and hesitantly began to dab it on to him. She wasn’t usually this hesitant with patients but something about this situation was different.

"Come on, woman. You’re supposed to rub it in." His words were irritable, but his tone didn’t quite fit. It was quieter than usual.

His spine was bumpy against her hands and his skin was a little dry. She pretended that he was a normal patient, and got through the task without another comment from McCoy.

When she finished, McCoy shook the last of the gel off his hand and rubbed his eyes. “It'll be the UV next.”

They both sat down on the bench, Christine sat in the corner of the chamber, as far away from him as possible. She resisted the urge to curl up in a ball and cover as much of herself as she could. He’d seen everything now. Roger, her former fiancé had made her feel so uncomfortable about her body. He’d been slightly shorter than her and he hated it when she wore heels. She’d always been the tallest girl and had been very awkward as a teenager. Roger’s behaviour had made her even more self-conscious. He’d constantly compared her to other women when they were together, always to her detriment. She had been almost relieved when he’d left her for his research assistant. Andrea had been the exact opposite of Christine, petite, brunette and perfect.

There was silence in the room. It smelt very sweet with a hint of new plastic. And Christine began to sweat. She tried to make conversation to ease things a little. "So how do you know so much about decontam chambers?” she asked. McCoy was more familiar with the setup than someone who had just studied record tapes.

"They still have them on some of the Class 8 freighters still running from last century. I got sent to one during my training when there was an outbreak of xxx. I spent hours in one of these things." McCoy patted the wall of the chamber.

“Really? Those crates still work? Why don’t they just use biofilters?”

"Yeah, well. Lots of those captains still don't trust transporter tech," he said. "To be honest, I don't blame them.”

They lapsed into silence again. Christine wondered what it would be like to feel his hands on her for another reason. Those large, capable hands. These were not the sort of thoughts that she should be having about her CO. She’d never really been alone with him in any situation where they hadn’t had the distraction of work. So she hadn’t thought of him in that way. She really wished she wasn’t now.

When M’Benga came to let them know time was up, Christine practically leapt up from the bench. She accepted the proffered robe and waited with poorly disguised impatience as he checked her over with the tricorder. The moment he pronounced her fully decontaminated, she left the medical bay and walked as briskly as she could to the privacy of her room. She wasn’t sure if she would be able to face McCoy the next morning.

**Two**

The second time Christine Chapel saw McCoy naked was only two weeks later. She was sitting in the common room with Janice Rand. She and Rand had bonded over unreasonable commanding officers during Kirk’s last stay in the sickbay. He had kept Janice running all round the ship for him fetching reports when he was supposed to be resting. The two of them had been regularly meeting for coffee after their shifts were over. It was lovely to have someone outside the medical staff to chat with. Christine had just got a fresh cup of coffee out of the replicator and she was trying to convince herself that it tasted as good as the real thing. It never smelt quite right.

Christine heard a crashing sound near the door, followed by a strangled yelp. She turned to look. It was McCoy, with a large brown stain spreading down the front of his blue uniform and a large coffee pot in pieces near his feet, with a pool of liquid spreading across the floor. One of the junior nurses was standing in front of him, her eyes wide with horror and splashes of coffee on her skirt.

Christine had never seen anyone strip that fast. Not even her first boyfriend when she’d finally agreed to go skinny dipping with him in the lake, but only if he took his clothes off first. She’d chickened out at that point, of course. Almost before she could blink, McCoy had removed his uniform and everything underneath and was standing there, right in the middle of the common room with nothing on.

Christine gaped at him for a moment, then recollected herself and started forward to assist him. But three other medical staff converged on him from their places in the line for the replicators and she remained in her seat. She didn’t really need to be that close to a naked McCoy so soon after the last time.

“I don’t think any soaked through,” McCoy sounded relieved, as he and Dr M’Benga checked for scalds.

“He doesn’t seem to care that he’s starkers in front of a roomful of people,” Janice whispered to Christine. “I’d die if it were me.”

“Me too,” Christine replied. “He’s very comfortable with himself.”

Janice nodded. “He should be. He’s got great legs.”

The scent of roasted coffee beans grew even stronger as a draft of air from the door opening hit them, and McCoy left, presumably for the sickbay, still naked. One of the nurses hurried after him with some hastily gathered spare clothing. “Mmm,” Christine said, trying to be noncommittal. “He was just like that when we were stuck in that decontam chamber. He didn’t care one bit, and I was dying of embarrassment.”

“Decontam chamber?” Janice raised one eyebrow. “Were you and Dr McCoy naked together? Alone?” She winked, and Christine wished again that she had never mentioned that she thought McCoy was the man she most admired on board the Enterprise. Janice had obviously taken the statement the wrong way. Christine had actually been talking about his research credentials, that time. “Tell me more.”

Christine felt heat rise in her cheeks, and tried to change the subject. Maybe she did spend too much time talking about him. She made a mental note to wait at least an hour before popping back in to sickbay just to see if he was OK.

**Three**

The third time Christine saw McCoy naked it was a complete shock. It had been yet another routine planetary visit. The problem was easily solved and it over very quickly. There were actually more of those than Christine had expected based on her reading of reports from other exploratory missions, but she supposed the interesting ones had a tendency to stick in the mind. In fact everything had been completely standard until the moment they had landed on the transporter pad.

It had been a little crowded; the two groups had been beamed back together, to save time. Christine felt herself rematerialise; it was the strangest sensation. She automatically went into her usual rapid mental checklist to ensure everything was in place. She had seen the results of too many transporter accidents in her classes at the academy to take anything for granted. Body, check. Legs, check. Arms, check. Head, obviously. However, something felt a little off. She looked down at herself and gasped. She was naked. Completely naked. Her uniform was gone and her tricorder had vanished. She could feel herself grow warm all over and checked to see whether anyone was looking at her.

It was at that point that she realised that everyone else who arrived in the transporter was also naked. They all seemed to twig at the same time and there was a flurry of exclamations and movement. For Christine, however, time seemed to stand still. She felt completely mortified and as if she towered over everyone and all eyes would be drawn to her. The fact that the majority of people surrounding her were actually taller didn’t seem to matter. All she wanted to do was to run away and hide but she couldn’t move. Instead she watched everyone around her.

“What the hell?” McCoy shouted as he caught sight of his companions and then looked down at himself, looking relieved that he was all in one piece.

Scotty immediately strode over to the console and started questioning the techs. He grabbed a large PADD from a bystander and used it to protect his modesty. Kirk followed Scotty to find out what had caused the problem, completely unconcerned by his state. He took charge, sending several of the waiting yeoman off to fetch clothing.

Spock appeared almost as his usual impassive self, until she saw a faint green flush on his cheeks. Christine realised that every pair of unoccupied eyes in the room was on him. She felt a moment of pure relief; nobody would look at her, when they could fulfil their curiosity about naked Vulcans. But then she felt guilty. Spock was so uncomfortable. People could be horrible voyeurs.

Christine heard one of the transporter technicians muttering something to Scotty about a strange glitch and only living tissue getting transported. The two of them were pouring over the transporter interface and Scotty had discarded the PADD. She could see his belly was jiggling a little as he worked. She’d have to remember that before his next physical. It looked like he’s been spending too many hours missing his turn in the gym to read his engineering journals.

McCoy seemed the most unaffected by the lack of clothing, now he’d decided that they were all in one piece, but Christine wasn’t surprised at that. He had crossed his arms and was tapping his bare foot impatiently. Chekov was trying to hide behind Sulu. What little Christine could see of his face and chest was flushed red and he was hunched over trying to conceal as much of his body as possible. Christine imagined that she looked very similar.

Sulu, on the other hand looked incredibly pale. He didn’t look too good, Christine thought idly. And then with a sudden realisation she darted forward and just managed to catch Sulu’s arm as he collapsed.

“Hell!” McCoy shouted, as he arrived a second later. “That damned machine! It’s removed the replacement skin from his leg. We need to get him to the medical bay immediately.”

Every thought of embarrassment disappeared. She had a job to do. As she worked to stem the bleeding from the two-day-old wound, she barely noticed when someone draped something around her and the others got dressed in new uniforms.

* * *

“Nice work, Chapel,” McCoy said, as they left a stabilised Sulu in the medical bay. “You kept your head earlier.”

“Just doing my job,” she replied, but she knew that it was more than that. She was feeling a little proud of herself. She hadn’t let her embarrassment get in the way of the emergency once.

**Four**

McCoy settled his naked back against the fence around what Christine could only describe as their enclosure. It was too large and open to be called a cage. “So it’s happened again,” he said. “Remind me how we got here again.”

Christine smiled slightly; of course he knew exactly how they had managed to end up naked together for the third time. The whole visit to this planet had been a fiasco. As soon as they had landed, she and McCoy had been separated from the others in the heavy fog. The next thing they knew, they had been grabbed by a forest of tentacles and carried off. As far as she could tell, they’d been moved quite some distance away and then they’d been forcibly stripped of their clothing, weapons and equipment. Christine shuddered a little at the memory of the touch of the suckers on the tentacles; she’d have some odd bruises in the morning. She imagined that their captors were some sort of cephalopod-like beings, and wondered how they moved about on land.

She said as much to McCoy. He had laughed in response and suggested that they had little carts with wheels. Christine decided that that made it even creepier. They hadn’t seen their captors at all: the fog had been too thick. She didn’t like it; it smelt unpleasant, sweet and cloying like fruit on the verge of rotting.

They’d tested the enclosure by walking around it and trying to find a break in the fence. It wasn’t too big, 57 paces around for McCoy. In their initial confusion, they had forgotten to place a marker when they started and had circled it at least twice before realising. Their only landmark was a dish of water.

After several hours the fog had lifted showing a wide plain surrounding their pen. All she could see was an expanse of dirt; it was completely flat, without even rocks to break up the landscape. Now that the fog had gone, she could see dust rising in the wind. There was nothing and no one in sight. The one advantage of that was that it didn’t look as if there was any immediate danger, so McCoy suggested that they should sit down and wait for the Enterprise to contact them.

* * *

After an hour, Christine began to feel cold. She noticed that McCoy was shivering slightly and inched closer to him, until she was almost touching him and she could feel his warmth radiating out to her.

He put his arm around her and she moved closer. “Thanks, Chris. It’s freezing here.”

She nodded and relaxed a little, feeling warmer. “What I would give for an earth-style hot bath. Warm me up and get rid of the dust at the same time.”

“Afraid you’ll have to make do with the sonic shower,” he said. “It’ll get you clean at any rate. This is a mess we’re in, isn’t it.”

“Yet again,” she said with a rueful smile. “At least this time there is no one else around to see us.”

McCoy grinned back. “I’m still trying to work out why.”

Christine laughed. “Why does this always happen to us? I doubt anyone else in the crew has had quite so many ‘oops we’re naked’ incidents.” She was a little surprised how well she was taking this, but as she had learned in her time on the Enterprise, panicking didn’t help and someone would be coming for them soon. A bit of bare skin wasn’t a serious problem.

McCoy didn’t reply to that and the silence stretched between them. It wasn’t awkward. Just quietness between two friends, Christine thought and began to think over the method of searching the Enterprise would use.

She was jolted out of her thoughts when McCoy traced a line across her back. She tensed slightly.

“Did you know that you’ve got a line of freckles across your shoulder just like the Big Dipper?” he asked softly.

“What? No,” she said.

“Hmmm. Yes, you do,” he replied. “Just here, above your scapula.” His hand traced several lines across her shoulder.

Christine could almost picture the lines forming the familiar shape. She turned to meet his eyes, but his head was bent and he was concentrating on her skin.

“I used to look up at it when I was a kid in Georgia. My family’s place was in one of the few places you could still get a clear view of the sky. We were just far enough from the city that the light didn’t get in the way.”

Christine made a soft noise of encouragement. She had never heard him reminisce like this.

“Never thought I’d ever get to travel among them.” He stoppped and laughed, “Certainly not with my aviaphobia. Yet here I am. On a strange planet, light-years from Earth. Separated from everything.”

“It is strange,” Christine agreed. “I never expected to be here either. I mean, I intended to travel in space. But as a nurse, and in Starfleet? I never even dreamed of it.”

She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He smelt fresh and clean, with the faintest chemical tinge. It was nice after the cloying fog.

McCoy slid his hand over her back. It was definitely a caress now. Christine leant into it, arching her back slightly for more contact. This felt nice. Very nice. She looked at his bare leg; it was covered in light brown hair, and she decided that she would balance better if she put one hand on it.

He shifted a little and her hand scraped against the direction of growth. She liked the feel of the coarse hair under her palm. Strange, it didn’t look as if it changed direction there. She squinted down at it, and realised how little she could see in the low light.

“How could you see the freckles?”

“Huh?” The movement of McCoy’s hand stopped and it rested on the small of her back.

“The light. I can barely make out my toenails and you could see freckles.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Well, I already knew they were there. I saw them when we were in the decontam chamber.”

Christine didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure what to think.

“I kept thinking about them. It’s such an odd coincidence. I wanted to know if they were really such an exact match.”

Christine opened her mouth. She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to say, but it was something important. Then she saw the familiar white shimmer. A second later Lieutenant Sulu popped into view with a phaser in one hand and two blankets thrown over his shoulder.

He looked around and seeing that there was no immediate danger, put the phaser away and handed them the blankets. “Here you are,” he said quickly. “We’ve got to get out of here quickly before those things realise I’m here.” Christine was sure that she looked as stunned as McCoy. “I’ll explain everything later.”

He spoke into the communicator as Christine and McCoy struggled to their feet and wrapped themselves in the warm blankets. “I’ve got them. Three to beam up.”

**Five**

The next time Christine ended up naked in McCoy’s company was much less traumatic. It started when Christine was sitting in her room, feeling very sorry for herself. She ached all over and her head itched and she couldn’t scratch it. She couldn’t lift her left arm above her shoulder and her other arm was completely immobilised. Christine had managed to break one arm and dislocate the other shoulder on what was supposed to be a routine planetary visit. She’d tripped on the path leading to the Federation Ambassador’s residence, and fallen down a hill. It had been pretty embarrassing. Particularly as she had been there to treat the Ambassador’s son for a badly broken arm.

There was a knock on the door and she heard a voice through the intercom. “Christine. It’s me.” She recognised McCoy’s voice. “Can I come in?”

“I suppose.” She told the door to open, and he came in, dragging a float chair behind him.

He put his hand on his hips and stared down at her. “I thought you could do with a nice old fashioned soak in a bath and a chance to wash your hair.”

Christine was startled: that wasn’t what she was expecting. A lecture maybe, or another medical examination. “Oh! Thanks, but I-.”

“No buts,” he interrupted. “I asked Jim if you could use his bathroom. It has running water.” He picked up her robe and slung it over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” Christine said grumpily. “I’ve got a perfectly adequate sonic shower.”

“So why haven’t you used it? You’ve been back here for 2 hours.” He smiled at her, softening his next words, “Doctor’s orders. Come on, Chris.”

It did sound lovely, and she felt awful. “OK,” she said finally.

He helped her into the float chair and they set off to the captain’s quarters. “Jim’s even got a rubber duck.”

* * *

As soon as they had reached the captain’s quarters, McCoy had run a bath for her and helped her in. He’d taken off his shirt to prevent it from getting to wet, well, wetter, as there’d been a lot of splashing as they’d manoeuvred her into the tub.

Christine lay back and relaxed as McCoy ran his hands through her hair. One palm covered most of the back of her head, and he used the other to comb through the loose strands.

Despite the fact that they were alone in the captain’s quarters and she was lying naked in a surprisingly large bathtub for a starship, McCoy’s touch was impersonal, as if she were a patient. Christine supposed that that was how he thought of her. He’d helped sponge her clean; she’d just about managed the private bits when he’d turned his back to protect her modesty. And now he was concentrating on her hair. It was wonderful. She’d spent the last few days of that ill-fated trip dying to clean her hair, but it had been a desert planet and water had been short. That had bothered her more than her injuries, the pain of which had been dulled by painkillers.

She admired the flexing of his back through half closed eyes as he bent to test the temperature of the water. He added some more and looked back at her. “Feel more comfortable now?” he asked.

She met his eyes and nodded. “Thanks, Leonard. That was wonderful.” She moved slightly and a piece of her hair slipped down to lie near her breast. The movement drew his eyes down to follow it. Christine felt a sudden increase in tension. She didn’t feel like his patient anymore. And she realised that he wouldn’t do this for anyone.

McCoy lifted his hand towards her, to remove the hair. His fingers brushed her skin, lifting the lock of hair. Christine’s heart hammered wildly. She tried to move one arm to catch his hand to bring it back to her skin, forgetting for a moment that she couldn’t. She gasped in pain as she tried. He immediately pulled his hands away and placed them behind his back.

“Don’t try and move it too much,” he said formally, all the tension dissipating. “Come on, you’ll turn into a prune if you stay there much longer.”

She nodded, and he helped her out of the bath and wrapped her in a fluffy gold towel. She tried not to think about what had just happened and distracted herself with the towels. Were the command-gold towels Kirk’s choice or did they came standard with the captain’s quarters?

McCoy didn’t say much as he helped her to dry herself and get dressed. He escorted her back to her room in the float chair and got her settled comfortably.

Just as he was about to leave, he turned back to her, a slight smile breaking across his serious expression. “Get some rest, Chris. You’ll be very busy when you recover.”

“With what?” she said. As far as she knew there was nothing in particular scheduled in the next week.

“I’ve got plans to see you naked in more enjoyable conditions,” he said firmly, and shut the door behind him.

**Six**

Christine sat back on the bed and stretched. “I’m so glad that today’s over.”

McCoy smiled at her, enjoying the picture she made. She was completely relaxed, her shoes kicked off and her hair rumpled. “Yeah, inoculating the whole crew in a single day was a bit too much.” He could see the signs of tiredness in her face. He doubted that he looked much better.

“I don’t want to do anything tonight. Can we just stay here?”

“Sure, why not, we don’t have anything important to do. Just dinner with the Andorian Ambassador.”

“Oh no! I completely forgot that.” Christine made a face. And sank further down the bed, pulling a pillow over her face. “Can’t we skip it, please, darling?”

He suppressed his grin. It was strange not being the one complaining. “Sorry, duty calls, but at least there’ll be plenty of alcohol there.” He pulled a bottle of wine out of the cupboard, where he’d concealed it and pulled out the cork. “We can start with this bottle of wine.”

“Non-replicated?” she asked, “Wonderful. Pour me a glass and I’d better start to get ready.” She walked into the bathroom.

McCoy sighed and poured out two glasses full of the Andorian red. It was the only advantage of their current station. He wasn’t looking forward to this evening. Formal dinners weren’t his favourite thing and he couldn’t imagine a worse way to end a day as exhausting as this. He took a gulp of his wine and looked around the room. Things had changed. Most of Christine’s belongings had slowly migrated to his much larger room in the months since they had been together. He was starting to think that it was time to ask Kirk to move her into the room permanently and make it official. As CMO, his room was so much larger than the dedicated rooms for couples. He’d have to see what Christine thought.

He bent to pull a clean shirt out of a drawer, when he heard the bathroom door slide open and Christine walked out. She was wrapped in his robe.

She came over to him and took a sip from his glass, McCoy was about to protest. She had her own glass. Why would she be taking his?

She returned the glass and said, “You know we’ve got an hour until we need to go. I could spend all that time getting ready, but I think it would be far more fun to do something else.”

She dropped the robe. McCoy choked on the mouthful of wine he’d just taken. Underneath she was naked.

He quickly recovered and walked over and kissed her. She was warm and she kissed him back fiercely. He could taste the wine as his tongue met hers. He slid one hand into her hair. Christine leant into him and ran her hands down his back and started to untuck his shirt.

“This looks like much more fun than watching you get dressed for an hour,” he said.

She pulled back and frowned at him.

“Not that I don’t enjoy watching you,” he said hastily, “but undressing is always better.”

She unbuttoned his shirt slowly as he ran his hands through her hair, spreading the mass over her shoulders.

“You’re lovely, Chris. I just want to touch you all over.”

“Me too,” she replied. “I mean, I want to touch you.” She pulled his shirt off and slipped her hands beneath his waistband. He continued to play with her hair, drawing patterns on her skin, as if the strand were a paintbrush. He could see the reflection of her back in the mirror on the wall behind her, and he traced the pattern of freckles across her scapula that had so intrigued him, so many months ago.

“Hey! Pay attention,” Christine said, “I’m trying to be sexy here.”

McCoy looked away from the mirror. She was smiling but he could see a hint of that old vulnerability and cursed her former fiancé; for the millionth time. “Honey, you don’t need to try, you just are.”

Christine blushed. She looked incredibly pleased but a little confused. “Really? Well, what on earth are you doing?”

“Just remembering the first time I saw you like this. I wouldn’t have dreamed that we’d be…” He trailed off and cupped her face in his hands. “It’s nice, I get to touch you whenever I want, and you don’t freak out anymore.”

Christine didn’t answer but kissed him firmly and grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the bed. McCoy went willingly. He was pretty sure that they were going to be late for the reception.


End file.
